For All I Know
by Stace88
Summary: When Don and Terry go to the scene of their latest murder suspect, they are shocked to find a thirteenyearold girl as the only witness. Once they find out that the girl has no family, she moves in with Don's family, and Terry assists Don in taking care of
1. Prologue

_This is my first NUMB3RS fic, but definitely not the first one I've started. I have another one that I might be able to post soon, and it deals with my version of the ending of "The O.G.". This one, however, came to me while my English 12 class was watching/reading Othello, which has to be one of the most boring of Shakespeare's plays to ever be portrayed by the BBC. Ugh._

_Rating: PG-13, just to be on the safe side._

_Pairing: Don/Terry...cause they're just so cute!_

_Disclaimer: I own Jacquie, and that's it. No one else. Don, Terry, Charlie, Alan, etc. all belong to CBS, Scott Free Productions, and the wonderful people who created them, Cheryl Heuton and Nicolas Falacci._

_Enjoy!_

**Prologue**

A young girl woke up suddenly, without any particular reason. She rolled over, noticing the time displayed on her alarm clock. 4:30 A.M. was displayed in bright blue letters. She groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow. It was far too early for her to wake up yet. School didn't start for another four and a half hours, and there were still two hours before her mother got up to go to work. She could just go back to sleep until her mother came in to wake her up---

CRASH!

The loud noise startled her completely awake. She sat up in bed, frightened eyes gazing all around the room. Her mother never got up in the middle of the night to cook. In fact, her mother never cooked at all. The girl was torn between staying safe and upstairs, and going down to see what was happening downstairs.

Eventually, curiosity won the battle, and she headed downstairs quietly. Her mother's bedroom door was open, so it was obviously her banging around on the lower level of the house. Maybe she was hungry and decided to reheat some leftover Chinese from the previous night. There was a faint smell of sweet and sour chicken mixed with chow mein and soya sauce, and the girl quickly deduced that her prediction about her mother's hunger had been correct.

The girl reached the ground floor, and another smell suddenly filled her nose. She wasn't at all sure what it was, but it sure wasn't Chinese food. It had a slight metallic, rusty smell, and it was like she could taste it in the air.

"Mom?" she called, her voice echoing throughout the large silent house. She shrunk back, suddenly frightened again at the silence and lack of answer.

After a few moments with no answer, she continued on to the kitchen. "Mom? You in here?" she asked loudly. Upon yet another lack of answer, the girl walked into the kitchen.

A loud, piercing scream broke through the silent neighborhood.

Special Agent Don Eppes of the FBI pulled his black SUV to a stop outside an apartment building. He watched as a short blonde woman came running out of the building, heading straight for him. He hit the switch to unlock the passenger side door, and received a smile of gratitude from her in return.

"Thanks for picking me up," Special Agent Terry Lake said as she shut the passenger side door. "I didn't feel like I could drive this early in the morning."

"No problem, Terry," Don grinned at his partner as he pulled the SUV back out onto the street.

"Here, I made coffee," Terry handed him a large portable mug filled to the top with hot black coffee.

"You're a goddess, Terry Lake," Don proclaimed, sliding the top slot open and taking a large gulp before transferring his attention back to the road. "So, tell me where exactly we're going."

"It's a couple of blocks from here," Terry said as she pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of her light jacket. "You're supposed to turn right at the next stop sign, and then go straight for a couple of minutes. We'll spot it by the crime scene tape set up all around the house."

The next few minutes went by quickly and silently, the only sounds coming from the car or someone drinking their coffee. Don spotted the police cars and familiar yellow tape at one particularly large house, and quickly pulled into the driveway. He and Terry both got out of the SUV and headed straight for the front door.

After quickly flashing their badges to get inside, they were greeted by a frantic Agent David Sinclair, the newbie who was training underneath them. "Don, Terry, good," he breathed a sigh of relief. "We were going crazy waiting for you guys."

"Tell me what we have," Don ordered.

"Victim is Noreen Winters, age thirty-two. She works for a modeling agency in their public relations department," David explained, motioning for Don and Terry to move to the side so a crime scene investigation squad could enter the house. "Looks like she was killed with one of those giant cast-iron frying pans. Direct blow to the head, dead on impact."

Terry noticed that David seemed to be nervous about something. "David, is there something on your mind?" she asked.

"There's a little complication with the whole murder thing," David said slowly.

"And what might that be?" Don asked, tapping his foot on the floor impatiently.

"The witness," David stated, motioning towards the kitchen.

Don and Terry exchanged a glance, and then walked in the direction David had gestured. They were ushered inside by a detective, and stopped short at the sight that lay before them.

A sheet covered the body of the late Noreen Winters, although the blood from her head wound had pooled further than the sheet would reach. The murder weapon, a large frying pan, lay on the ground next to the woman's head.

The shocking part that made them stop short, however, was the sight of the thirteen-year-old witness, who was sobbing at the table.


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer, etc. are in the first chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! If posting is sporadic, it's because I'm in twelfth grade and the end of first semester is coming up, so I'm getting stressed with everything I have to do. I'll try to work on this as much as I can, though._

**Chapter 1**

Don turned off the SUV and leaned his head back against the headrest. After he and Terry had scoured the crime scene for anything useful, they'd attempted to talk to the girl. All they were able to get out was that her name was Jacqueline Winters, that she was thirteen, and that she had no living relatives whatsoever. Walt Merrick, the assistant director of the LA chapter of the FBI, arrived on the scene a few hours after Don and Terry did, and he concluded that Jacqueline was in danger of being attacked herself, and that she was immediately being put in the custody of Don and Terry. Since Don's apartment was too small, and Terry's was going through slight renovations, their only option was to take Jacqueline to Don's childhood home.

A warm hand on Don's arm made him open his eyes to gaze into those of his partner. "Don, you think we should maybe go up to the house?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," Don nodded. He pulled his keys out of the ignition and climbed out of the driver's seat as Terry did the same on the passenger's side. While Terry went to help Jacqueline out of the car, Don went to the back and took out the four suitcases of her stuff that they'd been able to collect quickly before leaving.

The front door opened just as the three of them reached the front porch, revealing a rather shocked looking Charlie Eppes. "Don, Terry? What are you doing here at six in the morning?" he asked, stifling a yawn as he held the top of his bathrobe closed with one hand.

"Meet us in the kitchen in five, and we'll explain everything," Don said quietly, pushing past Charlie and leading Terry and Jacqueline into the house.

Once they had the girl situated in Don's old room, Don and Terry crept down the stairs quietly, not wanting to disturb Alan, Don and Charlie's father. Charlie was waiting for them at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of freshly brewed coffee in his hands. He motioned for the two agents to get themselves a cup each, and then sit down in front of him at the other side of the table.

"Who wants to tell me what happened?" Charlie asked. "I'd also like to know why there's a girl sleeping upstairs in your room, Don."

Slowly and carefully, Don outlined what had happened, or at least what they knew about it. Noreen Winters had been killed by a blow to the head with a cast iron frying pan. Her daughter, Jacqueline, had found the body. There were no other relatives, and because they wanted to take all precautions, Don and Terry were moving into the house to watch over Jacqueline carefully. That is, if Charlie didn't mind.

"Of course I don't mind," Charlie said. "Want me to babysit while you go and get your stuff?"

Don shook his head. "Terry can go first, and I'll stick around here and make sure everything's okay. One of us should try to be with her at all times."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Terry said as she palmed Don's keys and hurried towards the front door.

Once the front door was closed, Charlie turned to Don with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, with the girl in your room...where are you and Terry going to sleep?" he asked.

"Terry can take the spare room, and I'll sleep on the couch," Don said. "You'll need to clean your junk out of the spare room, though."

"It's not _junk_, Don, it's some of my old math notes," Charlie protested. "I moved them down from the attic because there might be something in there that Larry and I could use for our new project."

"Fine, can you move your old math notes, then?" Don asked exasperatedly.

"You have to help, but I'll do it," Charlie consented. "Want some breakfast or something? I think Dad bought one of those cinnamon roll things you unwrap, slice, and bake."

"Sure," Don said. "Then you and Terry can eat while I go grab my stuff. Just don't embarrass either of us, okay?"

"I make you no promises, my brother," Charlie kidded, ducking a swinging arm from Don.

By the time Terry got back with her things, the warming scent of freshly made cinnamon rolls had filled the house. She left her things by the door, and walked straight into Alan who also happened to be heading for the kitchen.

"Terry! What a wonderful surprise," Alan said, trying to think of a reason why she would be at the house so early. "You here to pick up Donnie or Charlie?"

Terry shook her head. "I'm just giving Don back his keys. He'll explain the rest to you."

"That he will," Alan muttered, holding the door to the kitchen open so Terry could go in ahead of him.

Don and Charlie were bickering as they iced cinnamon rolls with some half-empty can of vanilla icing they'd found in the back of the fridge. They stopped abruptly when they noticed that they had company. "You done, Terr?" Don asked, setting down the iced roll and knife.

Terry tossed his keys to him. "Your turn. I'll go and wake the girl."

"The girl?" Alan turned on his sons as Terry left the room. "What girl? Don..."

"She's part of a case, Dad!" Don defended. "Terry and I weren't going to let her get stuck in a group home just after she found her mother's dead body, so we offered to protect her here. Charlie already said it's okay."

"That's why the two of you are here before seven in the morning?" Alan sat down at the island and rubbed his temples. "Couldn't the two of you have waited to bake until a more decent hour, like...eight or nine?"

"We thought you might like something to eat while we told you what was happening, Father," Charlie said sweetly, handing Alan a cinnamon roll.

"I was going to make these tomorrow," Alan said, frowning down at the pastry. "You owe me another two cans of these."

"I'll take care of it," Don sighed, sitting across from his father and grabbing a roll for himself. "I have to go and pick up some stuff for Jacqueline, anyways. Make me a list and I'll grab it all."

The three men looked up as Terry re-entered the kitchen with a fully dressed Jacqueline trailing behind her nervously. She ushered the girl into a chair and sat down beside her. "Don, could we get two tall glasses of milk, please?" Terry asked quietly. She reached over and grabbed two rolls, placing one in front of Jacqueline and keeping one for herself.

Don retrieved the milk and set it down in front of the girls. "Uh, Dad? Could you and Charlie..." he said pointedly.

"Charlie, why don't we go and see if we can get started on that spare room?" Alan guided Charlie out of the room quickly.

"All right Jacqueline, we need to explain to you how things are going to have to work for the next little while, okay?" Don said kindly. "You'll be staying here, and Terry and I will be here with you. This is my brother Charlie's house, and my dad lives here as well. For the first couple of days, including today, you won't be able to go anywhere without either Terry or I accompanying you. We'll both take you to your school when it opens to get a week's worth of homework, and then we'll hit the mall to get anything you need and weren't able to grab from the house."

"Before we do any of that, though, we need to take you to the office to give a quick statement, okay?" Terry rubbed Jacqueline's forearm reassuringly. "You can give it to either Don or I, and then we'll do everything else. Do you have any questions?"

Upon seeing the girl shake her head, Don decided to ask a couple more questions. "I know you're thirteen, so which middle school do you attend around here?" he asked.

"I don't go to middle school," Jacqueline said quietly. "I'm in twelfth grade."

Don and Terry quickly turned to look at each other, sharing a knowing glance. They knew just the person who might be able to get through to her.


	3. Chapter 2

_Apparently, my threats worked, and Cora's gonna work on some stuff. Yay! I'm now finished French for the rest of my life, unless I want to speak it somewhere else. English is tomorrow morning, and then I'm free for the rest of the week! An update from Cora would make everything just that much more awesome that it already is!_

_Disclaimer, etc. are in chapter one, are they not?_

* * *

Later that afternoon, Charlie found himself babysitting. It wasn't technically babysitting, since he wasn't getting paid and he wasn't alone with the kid, but it felt like it nonetheless. Don was at the office, and Terry was upstairs in the guest room taking a nap to recover from a lack of sleep the night before. The two agents had gone with Jacquie, as they had come to call her, to pick up homework for that school week, and then had separated to do their own things, leaving Charlie alone to watch over the girl.

Charlie grabbed a box of cookies out of the pantry and a small individual sized bottle of milk out of the fridge before rejoining the girl in his living room. She was sitting at the table, working away at something he didn't dare try and sneak a look at while he sat on his butt watching TV as he flipped aimlessly through channels.

A rather comfortable silence―only interrupted by the television and Jacquie's scribblings―filled the house, creating a pleasant atmosphere. It was unfortunately interrupted by the ringing of Charlie's phone. He answered it, shooting an apologetic glance at the young girl. "Eppes residence."

"Hey, it's me," Don said. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine Don," Charlie said, noting the way Jacquie seemed to perk up a tad when he mentioned his brother's name.

"I'm almost done here, so I'll be home soon. Want me to pick up something?" Don asked.

"Order the entire menu at a Chinese place, and I'll reimburse you for half later," Charlie said.

"I'll get some dessert type thing too, since I owe Terry for everything she did today," Don said. "I'll explain it all later."

"You better," Charlie warned.

Don's response was to laugh and hang up his phone.

Charlie clicked the phone off and set it down on the couch beside himself. "You like Chinese food?" Charlie asked the girl, turning around so he could see her response. Once she had nodded, he turned back around to the TV. "Okay, good."

A comfortable silence filled the room for a few moments as Charlie became absorbed in an old episode of Cheers. His rather comatose-like state was interrupted when Jacquie sat down on the other end of the couch, looking at him curiously before turning her attention to the television set. Charlie, however, kept his gaze on the thirteen-year-old. He could easily see the similarities between the girl and Don, and it was incredible how alike they looked for two unrelated people. She had the same straight brown hair, same dark brown eyes, same serious expression.

"Charlie?" Terry's voice startled him out of his reverie. He looked up and found her brown eyes looking oddly at him from where she stood behind the couch. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen?"

Charlie followed his brother's partner into the kitchen and sat down across from her at the island. "Something you want to talk about?" he asked.

Terry got up and took two bottles of water out of the fridge. "It's about Jacqueline," she began, handing Charlie his water before reclaiming her spot.

"What about her?"

"She's not your typical thirteen-year-old," Terry continued. "You and she are quite alike, actually."

"Oh?" Charlie perked up, suddenly extremely interested. "How so?"

"She's in twelfth grade," Terry said shortly. "After meeting with the school's principal today, we deduced that she's not a math whiz, but an English one instead."

"English prodigy?" Charlie looked slightly skeptical.

"Well, she's fairly advanced in most subjects, but she seems to know absolutely everything there is to know about the English language," Terry explained, twisting the cap off of her water bottle. "She's surpassed everyone, including the teacher. Apparently, our little Jacquie read War and Peace in two days, and then proceeded to write a two thousand word essay on it. Universities are already grappling over who gets her at the end of the year. And now..."

"Now her mother is dead," Charlie finished. "What do you want me to do, Terry? What do you think I can accomplish?"

"Don and I just want you to talk to her, see if you can get through to her," Terry said. "She's said minimal stuff to us, but we think that she might connect with you better."

"What do you want me to talk to her about?" Charlie asked. "Should I just walk in and say 'Hi, you're a mini-me!'? I don't think she'd take that well, in her current state of mind."

"Just go back out there and sit with her," Terry advised. "I'm going to get started on dinner. It's the least I can do since you and Mr. Eppes are letting me stay here."

"Sure, Terry," Charlie got up and headed back to the living room, grabbing another unopened bottle of water as he left the kitchen.

Jacqueline was still sitting on the couch watching Cheers when Charlie re-entered the living room, and he sat down on the couch beside her. "Water?" he offered the bottle to her.

"Thanks," Jacquie said quietly as she shook the bottle and uncapped it.

Charlie watched her carefully, trying to note any similarities to himself in her. "So, uh, Jacqueline...how are you liking school?" he asked, trying to start a conversation.

"It's not my favorite place," she said. "I'm younger than everybody else."

"So was I," Charlie said, taking a sip from his water. "I graduated high school at the same time as Don."

"You did?"

"Mhm. I started high school when I was nine and Don was fourteen. That put a serious strain on our relationship as brothers."

"What do you excel at?" Jacquie asked.

"Math," Charlie said. "I'm horrible at English and most other things, but math is my escape."

Jacquie looked down at the bottle of water in her hands for a moment, and then shyly glanced back up at Charlie. "Do you...do you think you could help me with my math homework?"

Charlie beamed at the young girl. "Of course! Show me what the problem is, and I'll see if I can deal with it."

From where she hid behind the kitchen door, Terry sighed happily as she watched Jacquie lead Charlie to where her homework sat at the table. She closed the door fully and turned back to the lump of pizza dough that was half-kneaded on the counter. Don had been completely right when he'd said that Charlie could get through to her. Now if they could find out what happened to Jacquie's mom and set everything straight...


End file.
